


Transatlantic Diplomacy

by Osulity



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Historical, Historical Hetalia, Like... REALLY slow burn, M/M, Regency, slow-burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 13:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15461919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Osulity/pseuds/Osulity
Summary: It's April of 1817 and with the War of 1812 behind him, Alfred must set his sights on further establishing himself as a nation both at home and abroad. An opportunity to affirm his presence to the European nations arises when the newly inaugurated James Monroe sends him and a fellow by the name of Richard Keaton on a diplomatic mission to London, where they hope to ease tensions and charm the ton in the midst of the season.The task proves daunting when Alfred realizes he is very ill-equipped for high society and runs into the very person he hoped to avoid during his stay: England. Between the glares of the ton and the even nastier glares from his former caretaker, Alfred must find a way to ensure his mission is a success.





	Transatlantic Diplomacy

**Author's Note:**

> A few disclaimers before the story:
> 
> This fanfic, while also focusing on the relationship between America and England, is also meant to highlight Alfred's development as a person during this time and give a perspective on how he has been dealing with multiple issues that have been facing him since the Revolution. I want this to be an emotional, humorous, and heart-wrenching story on top of a pairing fanfic.
> 
> Also, on top of it being historical, it is loosely so. I've put research into this but I'd like the story to feel more relaxed rather than a textbook history lesson. That being said, if I do make a mistake regarding any history I do mention, feel free to let me know! I want this story to be immersive as well as fun to read, so I definitely welcome critiques.
> 
> Now with all the boring nonsense out of the way, I hope you enjoy!

Some would say seeing the good after a long bout of sadness would be like seeing the sun after the rain, Alfred saw it as quite the opposite. The sweet, cool release of rain and passionate roar of thunder after a seemingly endless spell of heat, which had bore down on you slowly as you lay miserable and helpless. Even in the aftermath, when the storm had long since passed you by, a sweet, familiar scent and a sense of cleanliness and renewal is left behind. It’s as if Mother Nature herself is releasing and letting wash away all the negativity in a fierce display of glory.

Despite the lack of resolution to any of his problems in the past two hours while nature ran its course just beyond the window pane, Alfred felt like a new man nonetheless. Like he could take on the world and then some. Even when nature’s thunderous roars of defiance had subsided, leaving behind a dreary sputtering of rain. Even when the rain also made him feel incredibly isolated and aching for human interaction.

He supposed he couldn’t have all goodness when it came to something. As much as he loved the rain, he could also see why some people disliked it. He was itching to talk to people, for no particular reason at all besides the simple desire to be near them. Near anyone. No-one and everyone in particular came to mind.

When the storm quelled, Alfred’s newfound inspiration was quickly fading into pure loneliness. He felt a little embarrassed over how persuasive the weather was on swaying his emotions, knowing he should be used to being alone and no longer be bothered by it. Yet, despite being well acquainted with an empty home, he didn’t like it any more than he did as a child. With his thoughts drifting into far more depressing areas than simply being lonely, Alfred stood from his lounging chair in search of companionship. He didn’t know who he’d seek out, but he’d be willing to talk to nearly anybody if it meant distracting him from his thoughts until the weather stopped affecting him so.

Leaving his room and venturing into the hallway of the London townhouse, Alfred began an almost too-eager search for his fellow diplomat or any other of the house residents. The other diplomat, a young fellow named Richard, was a perfectly agreeable man. He kept what otherwise would have been a terrible boat trip from New York to Liverpool tolerable by providing Alfred company. The young nation was amused by Richard’s outwardly polite and easily-flustered appearance, but quickly learned there was scathing wit underneath it all as they became more acquainted. It reminded him somewhat of Matthew, a thought that both warmed and deflated Alfred’s heart.

The other residents were the owners of the townhouse who had eagerly agreed to shelter Alfred and Richard. The couple was made up of an American-born woman named Lucy and her husband, a London gentleman named Thomas. Lucy was a jolly sort of woman who never lacked for conversation and seemed to find goodness in everything. Her husband was equally amiable and had a good sense of humor to boot. It pleased Alfred to learn that Thomas was quite welcoming to him and Richard, going so far as insisting they call him “Tom”. The young nation had laughed when Richard looked aghast at the prospect of referring to their host as anything but “Mr. Adley”.

Alfred had descended the staircase and was about to go to the library when he spotted Lucy at the entrance to the townhouse, holding a group of letters she had just collected from the post.

She noticed Alfred’s descent and smiled warmly, “What timing! There is a letter addressed to you and Mr. Keaton,” Stepping closer, she handed Alfred the neatly folded and wax-sealed parchment with a conspiratorial smile, “Oh, please come to the drawing room and read it! I’m quite interested to know who’s attention you’ve gained so soon after arriving in town.”

Were Alfred anyone else, he would have guessed they would be taken aback by Lucy’s straightforward and borderline-scandalous interest in his letter. Yet, remembering his previous desire for someone to talk with and his general disregard for anything ‘proper’, Alfred could hardly tell her no. He mirrored her smile as he took the letter held out for him, “I highly doubt it’s anything good, or anything I’d care to understand. I might need Richard to translate for me.”

Lucy let out a warm laugh as she led Alfred to the drawing room, her husband and Richard already gathered there in an intense game of chess. Tom’s face showed everything, he smiled passively as his eyes appeared to have a gleeful twinkle to them. On the opposite side of the table, Richard looked dreadfully miserable as his brows were knit together and his nose scrunched up ever so slightly. The fellow diplomat glared at the board as if he expected it to move his chess piece for him.

“I do believe you’re expected to move your own piece, sir,” Tom commented as he reclined in his chair and entwined his hands on top of his stomach. He didn’t sound the least bit annoyed by Richard’s delay.

Richard, in all his infinite wisdom and years of experience as a diplomat, did nothing but grunt in response as he began to move his rook, only to second-guess his decision and promptly move it back, going back to square one. “In my experience, the best outcomes aren’t rushed.”

“Which is a shame,” Alfred interjected as he sat down in one of the lounging chairs, an amused smile gracing is features as he watched the two, “since most people are very impatient, myself included.”

Richard shot a pointed look in Alfred’s direction, “And that is why it never ceases to amaze me how you became a diplomat.”

Alfred’s grin widened, flipping the envelope in his hand absentmindedly, “Because I defy expectation?”

The fellow diplomat snorted, “Indeed, when told to look left I suspect you’d look right, instead.” Turning his attention back to the board, Richard finally moved his rook, only to realize that Mr. Adley had him beat the whole time. He huffed and resigned with as much dignity as one can expect from a man who had been so thoroughly defeated.

“I daresay it’s no fun to play chess when there is no challenge,” Tom smiled as he cleared the pieces and put them back into a wooden box. “I’d suggest we play a round of loo, but we have too few people.” His eyes met those of his wife’s and subsequently the letters she held in her hand. “Ah, is there anything interesting in the post?”

Lucy smiled, “Indeed, your sister Camille wishes to come visit us while she is here with her daughter for the season,” she began half-heartedly, though quickly turned her attention to Alfred who held the other letter gingerly in his grasp. “Mr. Jones has also received a letter.”

“Oh?” Mr. Adley’s eyebrows shot up in question, though wasn’t as daring as his wife to go so far as to ask Alfred to disclose it’s contents.

Fortunately for the Adleys, and perhaps much to Richard’s chagrin, Alfred was keen to indulge them of their curiosity. He broke the wax seal on his letter and unfolded the parchment, gazing over the script before reading from the top.

_“Dear Mr. Jones and Mr. Keaton,_

_It would be my sincere pleasure as the American Minister to Great Britain to present you to the court in one fortnight, thus embarking your diplomatic missions within the country. It is my duty to aid you in your endeavours however I can._

 

_Yours Truly,_

_John Quincy Adams.”_

 

“Only two weeks?” Alfred’s lips pressed together, handing the letter to Richard before leaning back further into the chair. Shaking his head from the realization that he had absolutely no idea what to expect or what to do, the young nation huffed as he crossed his arms. “I would revel at the prospect of seeing an old acquaintance in a foreign land if what followed wouldn’t make me miserable.”

  
Richard rolled his eyes as he neatly re-folded the letter before placing it on the table to be forgotten. “It is not so bad,” he chided, looking towards Alfred, “I’m sure I or even Mr. Adley could tell you what to do.” Of course, this statement was followed by Richard looking Alfred up and down as if inspecting a product, causing the young nation to curl into himself upon realizing he was being scrutinized. Alfred was far from what one would expect from a diplomat or respectable member of the ton. He wore fashions more fitting of a well-to-do farmer than a gentleman, his hair free to run wild rather than be combed back. His boots stained with mud despite having just been on the open sea for more than a month. In short, he looked more common man than refined gent-- and his manners and way of speaking mirrored that perfectly. And that was the problem.

“We’d certainly have to start by dressing you in something more appropriate. You look like you’ve walked out of the last century, if I must be honest.” Richard commented, standing from his seat.

Alfred narrowed his eyes at the other, crossing his arms. He wouldn’t expect a normal human being to understand that, for someone like him, last century often felt more like last month. Yet, despite his desire to stand up for himself, he simply bit his tongue and looked anywhere but at Richard. Any previous desire he had to be around people had completely dissipated and was immediately replaced with an equally intense desire to be left alone.

It wasn’t like he _wanted_ to be here, anyway. The president had forced him into it because they desperately needed to ease relations with Britain if they were to get anywhere as a power. Though he hated to admit it, he knew the president was right. So far the only nation that took him seriously was France, and with Francis going through his own problems at the moment, it was in his best interest to turn foes into friends. Or, at the very least, acquaintances that wouldn't turn on him the first chance they got.

Lucy gave Alfred a sympathetic smile, “Oh, these English are all the stuffy types. While the French may be interested by your eccentricities, the ton won’t give you the time of day if you so much as wear your cravat crooked.” Her attempt to appease the situation worked, as it caused Alfred to smirk at the idea of imploring the scorn of everyone for simply having one garment out of place. Indeed, he knew it was likely an exaggeration, but the idea of it seemed quite funny to him.

“I suppose, for the sake of ensuring this mission is a success and to keep poor Richard from strangling me,” Alfred pointedly ignored Richard’s glare, “How do we begin?”

Lucy smiled gleefully as she clapped her hands together, “We make you look like a gentleman!”


End file.
